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Shen Qingqiu sat in one of Qing Jing Peak’s study pavilions, flipping through the top volume of a stack of demonic bestiaries. Curls of fragrant smoke rose from an incense burner that was set to one side, mingling with the scents of ink and paper that filled the quiet pavilion.

Nestled on Shen Qingqiu’s lap was a small, white-furred cat.

This had happened entirely by accident.

It was a simple, ordinary diplomatic mission. There had been a small territory dispute between two of the minor sects that had their headquarters within Cang Qiong Mountain’s sphere of influence. Yan Zhaoying, the peak lord of Qing Jing Peak, had suggested that her recently-named head disciple should be sent along with Qiong Ding Peak’s Yue Qingyuan to resolve the matter, and the sect leader had agreed, so the two had been sent together to Shuang Hu City to meet with the leaders of the feuding sects.

The meeting had been tedious, the disputes ridiculous, and by the time the pair had resolved the issue, Shen Qingqiu’s temperament had gone as sour as vinegar and Yue Qingyuan’s was hardly any better.

To make matters worse, it had also been raining that day, and the pair had been drenched the moment they walked outside. While they had talismans with them that they could use to repel the raindrops, it was hardly an appealing thought to fly back to the mountains by sword in this weather, and since it had just been the two of them, and a short distance away, they hadn’t brought a carriage.

So, Yue Qingyuan had suggested they stop in a teahouse until the weather got a bit better.

With a bitter scowl and an expression of utter distaste, Shen Qingqiu had reluctantly agreed— the choice was between being miserable and wet in Yue Qingyuan’s company, and being miserable and dry in Yue Qingyuan’s company, so he had taken the option that was slightly less uncomfortable.

By late that afternoon, the rain had slowed to a mere drizzle, and Shen Qingqiu had grown tired of Yue Qingyuan’s constant attempts to make pleasant conversation, so he was more than happy to return to Cang Qiong. When they stepped out of the teahouse, though, Yue Qingyuan had spotted a wooden crate with something inside, and gasped slightly.

“Shidi, look— a kitten,” Yue Qingyuan said, approaching the box. “It seems like it was just left here all alone. We should take it with us.”

“Ridiculous,” Shen Qingqiu muttered, but even as he said that, he heard Yue Qingyuan yelp in pain.

The older youth had reached into the crate to try to pick up the kitten, and it turned out that the little thing had batted out its paw, scratching the back of Yue Qingyuan’s hand hard enough to draw blood.

Shen Qingqiu snorted, tilting his head behind his fan as he considered the little creature in the box. Its white fur was dirty and damp, and it was still growling, with its ears pressed back against its head as it looked at the two of them. Really… this little beast was both extremely pathetic and extremely angry.

Though he would never admit it aloud, a part of Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but feel a bit of kinship with it.

He glanced toward Yue Qingyuan, who was cradling his scratched hand close to his chest, an unhappy look on his face.

Suddenly, Shen Qingqiu felt that he had a bit of a chance of heart.

“We should take it with us,” he said.

And that was how the two head disciples ended up returning to Cang Qiong Mountain with a small, angry wet cat curled inside of Shen Qingqiu’s sleeves. For some reason, it seemed to like him much better than it liked Yue Qingyuan, since as soon as Shen Qingqiu’s sleeve got low enough for it to reach, it had climbed up inside to escape the drizzle.

Yue Qingyuan told Shen Qingqiu that the sect leader likely wouldn’t let him keep a pet. Because the environment on Qing Jing Peak would be calmer and less bustling than the head peak of the sect anyway, and since Shen Qingqiu was a favorite of Yan Zhaoying, who was willing to grant him almost any request, it was decided that the cat would live on Qing Jing Peak.

That had been a few months ago.

The cat had been left to roam the bamboo forests as it wished, but somehow, it always managed to end up where Shen Qingqiu was studying or cultivating. Several times, it had even followed him into the Qingshui Springs, and he had needed to shoo it out so it wouldn’t disrupt his meditation. Despite all of his shooing, it had still ended up in his lap, and since it didn’t seem that the vibration of its purring was too distracting, he had let it stay there.

That had since become a common routine. Any time Shen Qingqiu was sitting down somewhere for an extended period of time, that little white cat, less scrawny and pathetic-looking than before, would curl up to sleep in his lap, a quiet companion to his studies.

Privately, in the back of his mind, Shen Qingqiu had to admit that he didn’t really mind this.

But while he might not mind this little creature’s companionship, there was one thing that he absolutely did mind.

The door to his study pavilion opened with a faint creak. As soon as it heard that sound, the white cat stood up from Shen Qingqiu’s lap with a curious trilling noise, and hopped off, trotting across the floor toward the door.

“Ah, Qingqiu-shidi, you’re here.”

Shen Qingqiu shut his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, then straightened out his robes as he rose to his feet and turned around. Yue Qingyuan was standing in the doorway, with the little white cat winding back and forth between his legs, rustling the silk fabric of his clothing. When its little head poked out from underneath the hem, Shen Qingqiu shot it a glare.

The little traitor.

As it turned out, that initial tendency to claw at Yue Qingyuan’s hands had only been temporary. Now, as much as it seemed to enjoy sitting on Shen Qingqiu’s lap, it almost certainly loved Yue Qingyuan even more, and no doubt wouldn’t be parted from him if it were permitted to go to Qiong Ding Peak.

Of course… this wasn’t exactly unreasonable.

Between the two of them, Yue Qingyuan was certainly the more likable— especially since he always had little treats on hand to give the cat.

“I came to see Xiao-Bai,” Yue Qingyuan said as he bent down to scratch the creature’s chin, eliciting an even louder rumbling from its tiny body, which only crescendoed when he revealed what he was carrying inside of his sleeves— a small bowl filled with scraps of meat, which he set on the ground for the cat to eat.

Shen Qingqiu was profoundly annoyed by the interruption.

But, of course, Yue Qingyuan had been the first one to find the little creature, and took a vested interest in its care. Besides that, Yan Zhaoying was rather fond of the Qiong Ding Peak head disciple, so banning him from Qing Jing Peak was out of the question. So, he was free to visit as he pleased, and everyone from the peak lord to the little white cat he had named ‘Xiao-Bai’ was perfectly happy with that.

Everyone except for Shen Qingqiu, who sighed deeply, narrowed his eyes, and raised a paper fan to cover his face.

“That little thing is always following me around,” he said, “You shouldn’t act surprised to see me if you came looking for it.”

Yue Qingyuan looked thoughtful. “That is true,” he said.

He stayed on the ground, continuing to pet the little cat as it ate the provided treats.

“Xiao-Bai isn’t afraid of me anymore,” Yue Qingyuan continued, with a smile on his face as the creature’s purring continued, comfortable with the hand stroking its back, the same hand it had once refused to allow to come near it without being scratched or bitten. “I think he trusts me.”

“A mistake,” Shen Qingqiu snapped back, his words laced with unconcealed barbs.

The smile fell from Yue Qingyuan’s face. His shoulders slumped, and he fell silent under his shidi’s glare.

Shen Qingqiu truly wished to storm out of the pavilion right now, never mind that he still had several volumes left to study. The only problem was that Yue Qingyuan and the cat were still blocking the door, so he would have to wait for them to move.

Once the cat finished eating its treats and had ascertained that there were no more secrets hiding in Yue Qingyuan’s sleeves, it stretched out its back and trotted over toward Shen Qingqiu, vanishing beneath the hem of his shang. Its little body was still vibrating as it wound around Shen Qingqiu’s legs, just as it had done with Yue Qingyuan. Shen Qingqiu was irritated right now, so his first thought was to kick it away, but he found that his feet were firmly rooted in place. Sometimes, he wondered if this little creature was a spiritual beast, with the way that it seemed to be able to resist all of his attempts to drive it away and change his mood at will.

It poked its head out, then stood up on its hind legs, raising its head to bump against Shen Qingqiu’s hand. Almost unconsciously, he allowed his fingers to scratch behind its ears.

Well… it really must have some kind of power over him, after all.

Yue Qingyuan, having been abandoned by the little creature, picked up the bowl and stood up from the ground.

“I am troubling Qingqiu-shidi,” he said, then paused, rifling around in his sleeves until he found what he was looking for. He held out a small packet, and said, “Here, this is for you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Shen Qingqiu’s curiosity won out, and he took the packet from Yue Qingyuan’s hands, unwrapping it, the scowl never disappearing from his features.

When Shen Qingqiu saw what was inside, his brows furrowed and the corner of his lip twitched— it was a handful of small sugar candies, each delicately wrapped in bits of colored paper. Yue Qingyuan had come here, with a small dish of scraps in one sleeve to bribe the kitten, and with a bag of sweets in the other sleeve to bribe Shen Qingqiu.

How infuriating!

He wanted to snap at Yue Qingyuan and drive him back to Qiong Ding Peak, but Xiao-Bai didn’t like loud noises, shouting, or sudden moves, so he restrained himself. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, shooting an icy glare toward his one-time friend.

“You think I’m some stray that you can win over with scraps?” he asked, his voice low and chilly.

Yue Qingyuan’s face paled. “I didn’t— that is not what I meant—”

“You think you can coax me into thinking of you as a friend?”

“No—”

“You think that I would ever trust you?”

There was a quick skittering of claws across the bamboo floor panels. As much as Shen Qingqiu tried to restrain himself, he still found himself becoming angry— and even though his voice had stayed fairly quiet, the cat had still managed to pick up on his anger. It had startled, bolting from beneath Shen Qingqiu’s hem back over to the study table, crouching beneath it with its round pupils nearly blocking out the green of its eyes, its tail fluffed out behind it like a reed.

Yue Qingyuan was staring at the ground, looking quite miserable.

Shen Qingqiu could feel his breath coming more quickly, and there was a sharp ache behind his eyes. Had that useless shixiong of his really been trying to persuade him like this? It was like using a bandage to cure a fever— what could a few pieces of candy do?

“It was not intended to upset Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan said quietly, “I only thought that Qingqiu might like it, so I brought some here with me.”

Still glaring at him, Shen Qingqiu turned away, stepping back over to his desk. The white cat hid further underneath it when he approached, and he sighed, forcing the tension in his shoulders to relax. He was still handing the little packet that Yue Qingyuan had given him. As much as he wanted to throw the ‘gift’ back in the man’s face, he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

After all, he still wouldn’t mind actually eating the sweets— it was just the way they had been given to him and the one who had done the giving!

Of course since it had been Yue Qingyuan, he could at least understand the motives…

From beneath the desk, there was a small meow, and a tiny, white-furred head peaked out. Wordlessly, Shen Qingqiu bent down to pat that head. Before he could get back up, the cat had already climbed up onto his lap, anchoring itself in place. Its tail was still a bit fluffed, so he ran his hand over its back a few times to smooth out the fur.

As soon as it was settled, the soft rumble of purring overtook its body once again, the vibrations seemingly transferring directly into Shen Qingqiu’s meridians and making the tension start to melt away.

“Xiao-Bai likes you,” Yue Qingyuan said after a few moments had passed.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t even look up at him.

“Shidi has taken good care of him.”

Still no response.

“It seems like he is also taking care of Shidi.”

At that, Shen Qingqiu looked up sharply.

Yue Qingyuan’s face was painted with an expression of fondness, tinted around the edges with a deep sadness and melancholy. The smile on his lips was a bit strained, and did not reach his eyes, but it was still genuine. Slowly, the Qiong Ding Peak head disciple lowered himself down to his knees as well. He took a deep breath, then released it.

“I…” he began, then stopped.

Shen Qingqiu’s brow softened just slightly. He said nothing. The air around them felt like a spring day just before the rain began to fall, heavy with anticipation.

Then, in a voice so quiet that, had he not been a Zhuji-stage cultivator, Shen Qingqiu would have had a difficult time hearing, Yue Qingyuan spoke.

“No matter what, Qi-ge still failed you.”

More silence. Shen Qingqiu felt his hands begin to tremble, and one of them found its way into the soft white fur of the little creature in his lap. The purring vibrating through him became even louder than before, and Xiao-Bai curled itself into a perfect circle, exposing its soft underbelly with its eyes closed in contentment.

“At least… you aren’t completely alone,” Yue Qingyuan murmured, still just as quietly as before, still not looking directly at his old friend. Though his eyes were dry, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but feel as though it would be appropriate for there to be tear-stains on his cheeks.

“Then, why?”

Shen Qingqiu blurted out the question before he could stop himself. As soon as the words left his lips, he knew he wouldn’t get an answer— just like he had never gotten one before.

Silence.

For countless minutes, the only sound inside the quiet study pavilion was the purring of the white cat that was curled in Shen Qingqiu’s lap.

If it weren’t for Xiao-Bai keeping him here, Shen Qingqiu would have long since gotten up and stormed out of the pavilion. As it was, though, he had no choice but to sit here, to wait until Yue Qingyuan decided to change the subject and start talking about something else, or decide on his own to leave.

Just as Shen Qingqiu was about to speak up, tell him that it didn’t matter, tell him to just go, Yue Qingyuan’s voice finally broke the silence.

“By the time Qi-ge was able to come back, it was already too late.”

… what?

What sort of an explanation was that?

More importantly… what did Yue Qingyuan mean by any of it?

Shen Qingqiu looked at him, his raven-wing eyes wide, the fingers of both hands entangled in the white cat’s fur as he waited for a better answer, something with more detail.

Had…

Had Qi-ge come back after all?

Any words that Shen Qingqiu might have said were caught in his throat, his tongue held back and his lips sealed closed by some invisible force as Yue Qingyuan lowered his head, his expression dull and despondent.

“Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter— Qi-ge still failed you.”

No— no— ‘whatever happened’ certainly mattered…!

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t protest. Yue Qingyuan was already kneeling on the ground, willing to accept fault but still unwilling to explain. Even now that he had revealed a little more, all that did was create even more questions, even more uncertainty.

Usually, by now, Shen Qingqiu would have already left— tired of waiting, tired of hoping, every passing moment just adding to his irritation. He didn’t like looking at Yue Qingyuan when he got all apologetic and downtrodden like this. It made something twist up inside of him in a way he found profoundly unpleasant. Now, though, things had already gotten to this point, and his mind was reeling, unsure if he wanted to stay or go.

“Tell me,” he said, his own voice just as quiet as Yue Qingyuan’s. There was a slight waver to it, and Shen Qingqiu regretted asking the question as soon as he opened his mouth.

Yue Qingyuan didn’t respond.

Of course he didn’t.

Instead, he just stood up, head still lowered, his expression still blank, shoulders slightly draw together. Even though just a few moments ago he had been smiling, right now, Yue Qingyuan looked like he was someone who would never smile again.

“I’ve already taken up too much of Shidi’s time,” he murmured. “Shixiong will leave him to his studies.”

“Stop. Enough.”

Xiao-Bai in Shen Qingqiu’s lap lifted its head, blinking its huge green eyes open as he suddenly spoke up louder than before. Yue Qingyuan, too, was startled, stopped in his tracks.

Shifting the cat into his arms, Shen Qingqiu stood up, stepping across the floor to face his old friend, to look him in the eye.

“You came back?”

Yue Qingyuan didn’t reply. The blood drained from his face. Shen Qingqiu repeated the question, positioning himself between Yue Qingyuan and the door. This had gone on long enough— if there was an answer to be had, then Shen Qingqiu would get it. He wouldn’t allow Yue Qingyuan to leave until he’d cleared up the new uncertainty he’d just created.

The future sect leader tucked his hands into his sleeves— but not before Shen Qingqiu caught a glimpse of them.

His fingers were trembling, his knuckles white.

Shen Qingqiu looked up to meet his eyes, but found that Yue Qingyuan was once again staring at the ground. His face was pale as a sheet, his lips pressed firmly together into a tight line, his pupils contracted, eyes seeming dull.

“I…” he muttered, trailing off before he could even continue.

“So did you come back or not?” Shen Qingqiu insisted.

Yue Qingyuan flinched at the sharpness of his tone. Then, he finally released a shaky breath, making a concerted effort to maintain calm.

“Shidi… please let me pass.”

Shen Qingqiu’s breath stuttered in his chest. Yue Qingyuan’s voice, right now… it wasn’t like it usually was. In fact, there was a certain quality that Shen Qingqiu had never heard before— like there was something simmering beneath the surface, like a qin string that had been stretched too far and was about to break.

It was a familiar feeling to Shen Qingqiu, but he had never imagined that Yue Qingyuan might feel that way too.

As if he had no control over his own movements, Shen Qingqiu stepped aside.

It took a moment for Yue Qingyuan to realize that the door was no longer blocked. When he did, he stared at it for a brief moment with that same dull gaze, and then something clicked into place, the life returned to his eyes, and he immediately opened up the door and half-rushed outside.

Shen Qingqiu expected this to be the end, and that Yue Qingyuan would go back to Qiong Ding Peak now until the next time he wanted to come bother his shidi under the guise of playing with a kitten. He expected that he would be left with his questions unanswered just like every other time, left alone to puzzle over what had come over Yue Qingyuan in that moment, and why. So he had already turned to go back into the study pavilion when Yue Qingyuan’s voice from just outside the door stopped him in his tracks.

“I made a mistake. It took me far too long to come back. By the time I arrived, you were already gone. There were only ashes left behind. They said that all of the men were killed, so I believed that you were among the dead.”

Each sentence was spoken softly, punctuated by silence and a shaky breath, as if Yue Qingyuan had to carve each word he said out of his flesh before he could speak it.

“Qi-ge knows that all of this is his own fault. Qi-ge broke his promise, and takes responsibility. I will not trouble Shidi anymore.”

He could have gone on rambling for an entire shichen, for all Shen Qingqiu knew. He had stopped listening.

His mind was fixed on one fact.

Qi-ge had come back.

After all this… all along, he’d been late, but he had still come.

By the time that Shen Qingqiu managed to root himself up from the ground and push upon the door, Yue Qingyuan had already vanished into the mist and drizzle, leaving Shen Qingqiu alone in the doorway of the study pavilion with a white cat in his arms.

The next morning, once lessons were finished, Shen Qingqiu gathered up the books he was studying and tucked them into his qiankun pouch. As he finished tying the pouch closed, he caught a glimpse of something like a white shadow slipping underneath a table, and his eyes narrowed sharply.

Moving as quick as a flash, he scooped up Xiao-Bai and tucked the cat inside of his sleeve. Somehow, he had a feeling that all of this was that little creature’s doing.

“You’re coming with me,” he muttered. “Two can play at that game.”

When Shen Qingqiu came to Qiong Ding Peak and asked where to find Yue Qingyuan, immediately whispers and rumors began to fly all about the peak. Despite the rumored close relationship between the two head disciples, Shen Qingqiu almost never visited of his own volition— and if he did, it seemed that he would be trying his best to avoid Yue Qingyuan, not seeking him out.

Yue Qingyuan was in the sword hall practicing taolu, his body flowing through the movements which came as naturally to him as breathing. He could feel Xuan Su humming within its sheathe, the sword moving as an extension of his own body, from the hilt to the point of its blade.

Any time he finished one set, he hardly took more than the briefest moment to breathe and reset before beginning the next one.

He had been going like this since before the sun rose.

Just before wushi, though, during one of those brief pauses, he heard the sound of soft footsteps pattering toward him, just before something small and soft bumped up against his leg. He looked down, and the sound of purring filled his ears. There was a white kitten weaving its way through his legs, back and forth, tipping its head up to look at him with big, adoring green eyes.

“…Xiao-Bai?”

The cat quickly used its claws to climb up Yue Qingyuan’s leg, until he was forced to scoop it into his arms. What was Xiao-Bai doing here?

“That little thing missed you.”

Yue Qingyuan practically jolted out of his shoes upon hearing that familiar clipped, cold voice. He turned around. Shen Qingqiu was standing near the entrance of the sword hall, looking just as irritated as always, his phoenix eyes narrowed above the top edge of his fan.

“Shidi…” Yue Qingyuan stammered.

What was he doing here?

Shen Qingqiu never came here— especially not looking for him.

Xiao-Bai rubbed its head up against Yue Qingyuan’s chin, and he absently stroked the soft fur.

“What brings Qingqiu-shidi to Qiong Ding Peak?”

“I said already— Xiao-Bai missed you.”

“Ah.”

There was another moment of silence as the pair awkwardly faced one another. Then, Shen Qingqiu glanced around the open space of the sword hall

“You have a room of your own, right? Let’s go there. I need to study.”

Yue Qingyuan blinked, and then slowly nodded his head. “Alright… very well… has Shidi truly come here… to study? In my room?”

Shen Qingqiu flicked his fan. “It was too noisy on Qing Jing Peak today. I couldn’t focus.”

Well… it certainly wouldn’t be any less noisy here… but if Shen Qingqiu insisted, there wasn’t really any reason for Yue Qingyuan to protest. Besides, after everything, his old friend had come to visit, and as selfish as it might be, he didn’t wish to do anything that might drive Xiao-Jiu away again.

“Of course,” he replied, “Let’s go then.”

So, that was how the two of them ended up back in Yue Qingyuan’s rooms, with Shen Qingqiu reading yet another book from his stack, and Yue Qingyuan fidgeting a bit off to one side, constantly glancing in his direction while trying to pretend he was practicing his calligraphy, and an indecisive white kitten making its way back and forth between them, never settling for too long in either one of their laps.

They sat that away for awhile, and then suddenly, Shen Qingqiu spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Answer me plainly. Did you or did you not come back?”

The lump that Yue Qingyuan had been trying unsuccessfully to banish from his throat came back in an instant to choke him. He felt the tips of his fingers growing cold as he tried to swallow it down. First, he nodded his head, then he shook it, then he curled his fingers into tight fists.

“Yes,” he said, his voice hoarse, “I came back. But I was too late.”

Shen Qingqiu suddenly snapped the book he was reading closed and stood up, sending Xiao-Bai scurrying from his lap and into one of Yue Qingyuan’s sleeves. He whirled around in a flurry of silks, his fine brows narrowed and his eyes flashing with irritation. When he spoke, his voice was filled to the brim with every bit of Xiao-Jiu’s bite and sharpness, without an ounce of restraint.

“Pah! Then what the hell are you going on about shitty broken promises for?!” he snapped. “Why didn’t you say so from the beginning? All this time I actually thought you left me for good and forgot about me!”

Yue Qingyuan was struck dumb as a wooden chicken, his mouth opening and closing without a single sound coming out.

…What?

Xiao-Jiu didn’t wait for him to reply, and just stood up. He stalked across the room and brought his fan down against the top of Yue Qingyuan’s head. There was a sharp cracking sound, and Yue Qingyuan couldn’t withhold a sudden yelp of surprise. This finally snapped him out of his stupor.

“But… I… didn’t save you…”

“Stupid Qi-ge!” Xiao-Jiu’s voice cracked a bit. “Who cares? I never needed you to save me anyway— if you came back, then you came back! You should have told me so! Isn’t that really all that matters?”

Yue Qingyuan looked up at last. There was a slight glistening to Xiao-Jiu’s eyes, twin trails of dampness running down his cheeks. His hand was trembling a bit as it gripped his fan. If Yue Qingyuan didn’t know better, he might have thought that Xiao-Jiu was actually about to start crying.

“I…”

“Fuck it, you didn’t break your shitty promise, so maybe don’t act like you did! Just shut up!” Xiao-Jiu crossed his arms, then spun around, going back to his seat, flopping down onto the ground like a temperamental child. He shut his eyes, then tried to open his book and read. Not a moment passed before he gave up, pushing the book away and burying his head in his hands.

Xiao-Bai crept out of Yue Qingyuan’s sleeves and padded across the room, climbing back into Shen Qingqiu’s lap. After a moment, Yue Qingyuan got up as well. He picked up a blanket from his bed, then, step by hesitant step, he crossed the room.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t acknowledge him, so he kept moving forward until he was right next to his old friend. Then, he knelt down, and gingerly draped the blanket over Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders.

He took a shaky breath, then whispered, “The happiest moment of this life of mine was when I discovered that you were still alive, after all.”

When he finished arranging the blanket, his hand lingered on Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder. The other youth didn’t shrug it off, so he kept it there. Beneath Shen Qingqiu’s skin, his spiritual flow was a bit erratic, spinning up inside of him, catching here and there and beginning to whirl out of control. Yue Qingyuan took a breath, and then gently pushed his own spiritual flow in to stabilize his shidi’s meridians before his cultivation could lapse.

They stayed this way for awhile. When Shen Qingqiu finally spoke, his voice was quiet again.

“Why did you bring me to Cang Qiong Mountain, back then?”

“You always wanted to cultivate immortality. And I always wanted to be by your side.”

“… is that all?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t out of obligation?”

“No.”

“Do you regret it at all?”

“Of course not.”

After that, they were quiet again. Then, very slowly, Shen Qingqiu leaned into Yue Qingyuan’s touch. Then, he leaned even further, until his head was resting up against Yue Qingyuan’s shoulder. The purring from his lap crescendoed, and Xiao-Bai stretched out its legs, so that its body was now lying draped across both of their laps.

Yue Qingyuan shifted slightly, so that Xiao-Jiu was more comfortably positioned. He could see that Xiao-Jiu’s eyes had drifted closed, long lashes dusting against the top of his cheekbones.

An ache deep within Yue Qingyuan’s chest, one that he had carried inside of himself for years, rose up into his throat, sending a burning sensation to his eyes, before it blew away like incense smoke on a clear breeze. The corners of his mouth turned up, and he reached up, loosening Xiao-Jiu’s hair from his guan and gently ruffling it. Then, with a soft, contented smile on his face, he closed his own eyes.

Within an incense time, both of the youths had drifted off to sleep at midday, leaning against one another with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders and a white cat sprawled across their laps.

Neither of them had slept this well since the last time the two had cuddled together like this, before fate’s cruel designs had torn them apart. Now, though, it was like no time had passed— whether it was Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu, or Qi-ge and Xiao-Jiu, it would be hard to tell a difference.

While the two slept, the little white kitten stood up from their laps, stretched, yawned, and then padded off to find a patch of sunlight. It flopped down on the ground, softly purring in satisfaction.

Its work here was done.